


love through the looking glass

by jemmasimns



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-13 00:23:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4500609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jemmasimns/pseuds/jemmasimns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma breaks out of the rock, and the events that come afterwards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	love through the looking glass

**Author's Note:**

> originally inspired by this ask: http://imperfectlychaotic.tumblr.com/post/125640528087/this-is-probably-terrible-but-i-keep-laughing-at

_/ Attempt #56. 21:36_

Fitz held a wide grasp against the rock, his gloved hands curled around it with anxiety. He nodded to Skye once in question, twice in affirmation. May looked on from afar, her gaze hidden behind a one-sided window pane. She rubbed her temples, watching the pair; this had gone on for too long.

May felt the floor rumble. It shook with a controlled tension that emanated from a familiar place―the sole of Skye’s hands, open wide. Skye’s eyebrows were knitted with concentration, and from a distance she looked as if her sweat might be tears. May knew better.

Fitz’s contraption sat next to the two on the floor. It was an elaborate little toy, wrapped in coils and wires, framed in metal and glass. Despite the rumbling, it remained still, balanced on two little metal legs. At first glance, it may look like some sort of compact technological disaster. Skye gave it a glance, allowing herself to hope that it might just be more than that.

“Twelve seconds,” Fitz announced, reading off the machine’s analog clock. Skye nodded.

“And we’re sure it won’t―”

“It won’t hurt her,” Fitz interjected, letting his eyes wander back to Skye’s, “I won’t let it.”

May felt Coulson at her side, his arm brushing against hers.

“And?” he asked, his eyes glued to the glass pane. The analog clock read eleven.

“Nothing yet,” May shrugged, trying to give off an aloofness she hadn’t felt in a while.

Coulson nodded. He understood.

“Three more seconds, Skye,” Fitz counted. Skye didn’t respond, but she closed her eyes. She felt the vibrations close in around her, spill from her skin and bounce off the walls. They used to be a comfort. Now they were just a reminder of what she’d lost.

“Now!”

Skye tensed, fisting her hands and squinting her eyelids. She felt the room stiffen―but then a sound. The machine fired, a pulse of pure power reel from it’s metal hands. Skye watched the electricity ride the air, dancing along the waves that she produced and hit the rock with an astounding boom.

It was so quiet, then. Skye almost wanted to hum. You know, just to fill the space. She knew this was the moment. She knew it was here and now that stood between success and failure, between attempt 56 and attempt 57.

Then the rock cracked.

It opened like a crevice. Two sides splitting and ripping apart like an avalanche. Parts of it fell to pieces, and others landed on the ground with resounding thumps. It was remarkable, really, but not nearly as remarkable as what was left inside.

Skye was crying before she knew she was crying. She was running before her feet knew they were going and she was smiling like she never knew how to frown. Right there, right _damn there_ was that stupid, idiotic, beautiful―

“Skye,” Jemma blinked, her form frozen in the remains of the boulder. Fitz was already by her side, holding her back and pushing away her hair and babbling like a baby to the side of her face.

“Jemma,” Skye grinned, so wide and so big that she felt like an idiot just letting anyone else look at her like this, “you’re back.”

“Oh, yes… and… oh, Skye, your hair looks lovely,” Jemma smiled. Then fell. To clarify, she smiled _and_ fell, quite in sync and equally alarming. Luckily, Fitz had a good grip on her arms and prevented any injury. But yes, those were the first words of a newly returned Jemma Simmons.

Skye was definitely okay with that.

―

It was a bit weird, to be honest, looking down at Jemma like this. Skye was so used to being the patient.

“You look so pale,” Skye smirked, not sure why this was her first observation.

“It’s really not that unusual for my complexion,” Jemma returned, a smile threatening her lips. Skye knew Jemma wasn’t supposed to laugh. Some weird, internal alien space after effect or something―

“No but like, really pale,” Skye raised her eyebrows, poking Jemma a little in the side, “like paler than usual. Like if I held some whip cream up to your face, it would be the perfect tone for your moisturizer.”

Jemma grinned, her eyes squinty. Skye knew she was really pushing it; Simmons was not supposed to be giggling. Jemma knew that too, but she wasn’t going to stop Skye regardless.

“So… anyway,” Skye continued, letting her finger remain on the covers above Jemma’s thy, “how was life in the alien space rock?”

“Dark, dismal,” Jemma shrugged, but quickly winced at the action, “a little bit nostalgic.”

“You were awake? Like, aware and stuff?”

“I guess,” Jemma began, her pupils looking upwards in memory, “I was aware, _and stuff._ It felt mostly like a dream. I could envision others there, see them as I would if I were sleeping. But it was very dark, and I couldn’t hold one picture for very long.”

“Sounds… weird,” Skye said.

“Not a bad diagnosis,” Jemma smirked.

“Not bad at all, you mean,” Skye laughed, “I’m kind of overseeing the job of this crazy nerd girl with two PhDs. It’s a hard fit for me, but I’m dealing with it.”

“Crazy nerd girl?” Jemma squinted, “I think I should be offended.”

“Don’t be,” Skye shook her head, “I could think of some more positive descriptors. If I, like, tried.”

“ _Please_ do. Think of it as my dying wish. Which it may as well be considering this shoulder pain, but, still.”

Skye smiled, lifting her finger from Jemma’s lap, “alright… well…”

“Please, on with it, I can feel myself fading!” Jemma joked, feigning pain as Skye rolled her eyes.

For a moment, Skye just thought. There were a million positives to be said about the woman in front of her. Resourceful, fun, smart… hot?

“Well, Skye, that was a bit more than I expected,” Jemma stuttered, a red tint bringing life to her cheeks, “but I’m flattered.”

“Did I say that out loud?” Skye coughed, about to steer the conversation away from her embarrassing confession. But, of course―

“Skye, time’s up. She needs her tests done.”

If bad timing was a dude, that dude would be Leopold Fitz.

―

Skye was fully aware of her crush on Jemma Simmons.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t known before the rock, it was just that it was made painfully clear in the time after.

“You really should have told me you weren’t into scientific documentaries before you agreed to watch one with me,” Jemma frowned. Skye blinked, her surroundings coming into focus again.

They were on the couch, Jemma’s arm touching lightly to Skye’s side. Skye turned to her, a confused but guilty smile on her face.

“You must be confused, I’m loving this,” Skye responded, her eyes returning to the screen, “I liked the part about the stuffed animal that glows in the dark.”

“ _Skye_ ,” Jemma sighed, shaking her head, “that was the commercial.”

“Oh,” Skye laughed, smiling in a way that she hoped conveyed as much regret as she could muster. Jemma offered a smile of her own, unable to stay mad for long.

“Idiot,” Jemma said, letting her eyes fall back to the screen, a cute smile still splayed on her lips.

For the first time in her life, Skye wishes Jemma would insult her more often.

―

“For the last time, Skye! The lab is not the place for your shenanigans,” Jemma huffed, her arms crossed.

“ _You_ shouldn’t even be in the lab, you’re the one whose injured,” Skye said, leaning against Jemma’s lab table. Her elbow rocked against Jemma’s test tubes, and Skye bit her lip as she watched Jemma’s face turn into momentary horror.

“I beg of you, please don’t touch those,” Jemma said, her voice just above a whisper. This was fun, like, four minutes ago. Now Skye’s to the point where she’s just starting to feel bad.

“Okay, okay, don’t worry,” Skye took her weight off the desk, giving Simmons an odd pat on the shoulder, “but seriously, Fitz said you shouldn’t be working again until they can certify that your brain is all… back in order.”

Jemma frowned, clearly very informed on her state.

“I just care about you, Jemma,” Skye finally confessed, poking Jemma lightly in the side, “don’t overwork yourself.”

Jemma seemed to soften, taking in Skye’s words. She reached out to touch Skye’s arm, running her thumb to the back of her hand. Skye thought quickly about how she wished they could stay like this for longer.

“I know,” Jemma said, finally releasing her grasp, “thanks.”

―

Jemma was sick.

The tests had came back: all negative. Breathing was regular. Blood tests were predictable. She was fine. In truth, Fitz believed it was a simple case of the common cold. As expected, this wouldn’t stop Skye from treating it like the second coming of the bubonic plague.

“I see you,” Skye teased, giving Jemma a pointed look through the window, “doctor’s orders, Jem; you need your bed rest.”

Jemma groaned, falling back into the bed cushion. It had been three whole days and she hadn’t even _looked_ at the new virus they had received from HQ. Three days she ignored this once in a lifetime, extremely important point of opportunity. Three whole days of letting Fitz handle the biochemical aspect of their duo, and what a draining three days it had been.

“Come here,” Skye said, draping a cool cloth over Jemma’s forehead and letting her hand fall to her temple.

Okay, so it hadn’t been _all_ bad.

“That is quite enough, Skye,” Jemma mumbled, “your service is appreciated, but no longer required.”

“Yeah, alright,” Skye rolled her eyes, taking a sideways glance at the overflowing wastebasket. She was going to need to get more tissues, “I’ll get AC to go through your gross garbage instead.”

“Oh _please_ no,” Jemma begged, her red eyes straining in desperation, “I’m embarrassed enough that I’m making you do it.”

Skye laughed, carelessly running her finger down Jemma’s forehead and into her hair. She liked the way it felt, even despite the lack of upkeep. It was soft, familiar… and, well, almost identical to her own.

“Skye,” Jemma spoke with a certain clarity, catching Skye’s eyes from the trance they had been pulled into.

“Oh, erm―sorry,” Skye apologized, quickly retracting her hand from Jemma’s hair, her face turning a certain red.

“Oh, no, no, not that…” Jemma quickly corrected, ducking her head further into her pillowcase, “I actually, um… You can keep doing that, if you like.”

Skye rose her eyebrows; this was new, but she was definitely complaining.

―

Jemma didn’t know why she always ended up here, looking at it like this. Through the screen.

The rock, however alive it was at one point, was broken. Fitz had ascertained it weeks ago. The biomatter was a chaotic mess, and studying it at this point was not of any real priority.

Just the thought of it put her skin on edge; goosebumps railed up her arms and sent shivers down her spine. Her memories of inside were so murky and disconnected, sometimes she hoped just looking at it would help her remember.

“Hey.”

Jemma’s eyebrows shot up, turning to her side to find Skye only a ways behind her.

“I’m starting to feel like you’re spending more time with this rock then you are hanging with me,” Skye smirked, joining Jemma at the screen. Jemma laughed, but it was cold.

“I’m starting to feel that way too,” she confessed. She ran her hands over the surface of the glass, tracing the stone with her thumb.

“Something on your mind?”

“Something’s always on my mind, Skye,” Jemma laughed, “my IQ doesn’t let me find time to think about nothing.”

“Braggy much?” Skye responded, biting her lip and stepping an inch closer to Jemma.

“Hardly,” Jemma shrugged, “if I really wanted to brag, I’d talk about how I survived a whole three weeks inside a rock.”

Skye smirked. “You got me there,” she shook her head. A moment passed, and she felt the side of Jemma’s body tremble. She looked up to meet her eyes, but found that Jemma’s were glued to the screen, her pupils wide and dilated.

“I…” Jemma started, but found the words caught in her throat. She almost wanted to walk away, go back to bed and pretend what happened didn’t happen. That nothing ever changed. But things had, and so had she.

“Can I ask you a question?” Jemma said, smiling tentatively. Skye rose an eyebrow, but shook her head.

“Why did you cut your hair?”

Unexpectedly, Skye laughed. She grinned at Jemma in the purest kind of way, and shook her head as if to say _what a stupid question_.

“It’s embarrassing,” Skye shrugged, a smile still on her face, “but I guess I missed you. I was just… looking in the mirror. And I grabbed a pair of scissors, and just, like, went at it. It was honestly the fastest decision I’ve ever made.”

“Well, it looks good on you,” Jemma admitted, blushing, “fitting.”

“Good,” Skye blew out a breath, “I’m not sure I can pull off the whole ‘adorable’ thing. I think I make it look more edgy.”

“What ‘adorable’ thing?” Jemma asked, biting her lip. Skye opened her mouth slightly, letting her words dawn on her. Before she could ramble away, however, Jemma reached out and took her hand.

“You know, I probably would’ve done the same thing,” Jemma confessed, “I mean, if my hair wasn’t short already.”

Skye smiled, letting go of the embarrassment from a moment before.

“I’m just glad I was able to survive long enough to see it,” Jemma continued, squeezing Skye’s hand, “hopefully I won’t get sucked in again, or you might just have to get a pixie cut.”

Skye laughed, letting her head fall back as her bangs fell over her eyes.

“Look, it’s embarrassing enough some space rock stole you from me the first time,” Skye whispered, a cocky smile on her lips, “...It’s not getting away with it twice.”

“I’d like to see it try,” Jemma smirked, her voice nearly silent. They just stood there for a minute, just like that. Skye felt Jemma’s thumb nudge hers, and they intertwined their fingers as if they had done it a thousand times.

“I wouldn't,” Skye finished, and leaned in, just like that.

And it was perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> always accepting skimmons prompts on my tumblr: agentsimns.tumblr.com !


End file.
